


Answers in the Darkness

by rhoen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Comfort, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/rhoen
Summary: It's cold, it's dark, and there's no point in either of them remaining separated from something that can bring them both comfort.





	Answers in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rcris123](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rcris123).



> I'm having a bit of a hard time right now (especially with writing), so for me this fic was like a hug for the soul. I'm not posting it because I think it's the greatest written story I've written, I'm posting it because of how it made me feel.

The sound is so soft at first Itachi doesn’t register it, taking it for his imagination. It’s dark, the window just loose enough in its frame for him to hear the wind sighing outside, and the air in the room has a chill to it that drives him further beneath the covers. There is no power here, no lights beyond the candle currently extinguished on the table between the two beds, and no heating to drive the cold away. Itachi doesn’t mind. He’s comfortable in the dark, and the quilts are warm and heavy. He’s almost content.

But Nagato isn’t. He can hear his discomfort in the shallow, laboured breathing, and the occasional chattering of teeth. They both have the same bedding on their beds, but somehow that isn’t enough for the other man. Itachi’s heart falls as he realises his mistake.  Nagato is ill. His body is struggling, fighting to keep up with the demands Nagato makes of it. Normal things, such as walking, are sometimes too much for him.

“Nagato?” Itachi calls out, his voice soft in the darkness. He hears Nagato’s sharp intake of breath, and the way he tries to still when he realises Itachi is still awake. “Do you want me to come over?”

There’s a pause before Nagato answers, his voice thin and tired. “No. I’m fine.”

“Do you want to come here?” he then asks. After all, he’s more capable of producing body heat. Nagato’s bed is likely to be as cold as Nagato is. He can tell Nagato is hesitating, wanting without knowing how to accept, and he wishes Nagato knew he didn’t have to pretend, to try and be strong around him. Itachi wants him to be himself. “I’d… appreciate the company.”

He hears Nagato moving, and has his answer. Lifting the covers, Itachi shifts back, making space for Nagato to slide in beside him. The mattress barely dips, no discernable heat radiating from the other man, who keeps a careful distance. Itachi can feel that he’s trembling, shivering in an attempt to generate warmth, and reaches for him.

“Come closer,” he encourages, his hand meeting with a bony, ice-cold hand. He can’t hold back his alarm: “You’re frozen!”

Nagato doesn’t try to deny it. He lets Itachi pull him close, wrapping around his fragile frame. There’s almost nothing to Nagato, and it hurts Itachi to feel just how slight he is. Through their clothes he can feel the prominence of bones, the ribs caging Nagato’s fluttering heart and labouring lungs, and he can smell the cold distress clinging to his skin. Propriety takes a back seat, and he shapes himself to the harsh contours of Nagato’s body, legs tangling with Nagato’s, warm hands curling around frozen ones, cradling them to Nagato’s chest. His nose presses against the chill, exposed skin of Nagato’s neck, and he reaches to readjust the covers, pulling them up just a little more to cover as much of their bodies as possible.

“Is that better?” he asks.

Nagato shudders in response, tension lingering in his muscles. “Yes. Thank you.”

“It’s so cold,” Itachi sighs, feeling Nagato relax a little, still shivering but no longer as tense. “How long do you think the storm will last?”

“They say until tomorrow.”

The silence that settles around them is alive with the whisper of the wind and the rhythm of their breathing, Nagato’s evening out to match Itachi’s. Their heartbeats seem to answer each other, and Itachi absorbs every little detail of the touch - the way Nagato feels against him - as he tries to lend him warmth and, should he need it, strength. 

“You know you can lean on me?” Itachi asks at length. He can tell Nagato is still awake, and when he readjusts his embracing hold on Nagato’s hands, feeling the warmth that has started to flourish in them, Nagato’s fingers twitch. It’s impossible to miss the way his heart starts to race, the inescapable reaction telling. Emboldened by it, Itachi nudges against Nagato’s neck, fine, fragile hair caught between their skin. “Don’t try to carry the world on your shoulders. Let me help you where I can.”

Nagato inhales, his lungs shuddering in anticipation of speaking, and then he hesitates, and lets the words go. They leave his body in a steady breath, the gesture feeling like acceptance. “Thank you.”

Itachi smiles against that, lips catching on the slowly warming skin just above the collar of Nagato’s top. “Thank you for trusting me.” A pause, and then he asks: “Are you warmer now?”

He can feel the answer in the way Nagato no longer shivers, his body reflecting back heat rather than just absorbing it, but he’s relieved to hear it anyway. “Yes.”

Thin fingers curl around his, holding rather than being held, and as the winds begin to howl outside Itachi at last relaxes into sleep, content that, for now at least, Nagato is safe, and warm.

.

It’s still dark some time later when Itachi wakes. He’s not sure what’s disturbed him, until he remembers he’s not alone. His fingers twitch against Nagato’s, testing the contact that, as far as he can tell, hasn’t broken since they fell asleep, despite the fact they’re now facing each other.

“Itachi?”

Nagato sounds breathless, uncertain, and Itachi’s name ghosts against his lips in a tender imitation of touch.

“Are you okay?” is Itachi’s first concern.

“You…” Nagato starts, and Itachi suddenly knows what’s wrong. He remembers. “You were dreaming.”

Itachi tries to swallow, the action only resulting in jagged discomfort. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Itachi sighs, knowing to let the darkness take the twisted, violent details of his nightmare, lest they lay further claim to him. He wants light, and warmth. He’s grateful for Nagato’s company.

“Should I go?”

“Stay,” Itachi pleads, letting go of Nagato’s hand and reaching for him instead. He finds a thin bicep beneath his touch, and pulls gently. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Nagato reassures him. He moves closer at Itachi’s bidding, until they find themselves face to face, warm breath between them and legs tangling together. Bitter and sweet, Itachi can taste Nagato’s sickness as he breathes, and he searches in the near darkness, seeking out Nagato’s gaze.

“Are you still warm enough?” he asks as his hand, moving almost of its own volition, slides to Nagato’s back. He feels prominent ribs against his palm, the warm rise and fall of a fragile body as Nagato hums in response, and he shivers as they flow against each other, the jagged pieces of who they are fitting together as they seek out closeness.

He shouldn’t be surprised that the natural conclusion to their actions is a kiss. Nagato’s hair rustles against the pillow, his slender hand alighting on Itachi’s waist as he closes the distance, and then there’s nothing else in the world beyond the soft, tender press of dry, broken lips against Itachi’s own.

And then his mind catches up with what his body is doing. Itachi stiffens, pulling away with a gasp. His heart, making up for the tranquility of just a moment ago, sets fire to his veins, and he stares, wide-eyed, into the darkness, knowing Nagato is staring in return.

“I--” he stammers out, barely able to hear himself think over the rush claiming him. His hand is fisted in the thin fabric of Nagato’s shirt, his limbs locked and rigid. He can’t let go.

Nagato holds on just as tight. His breathing laboured, it’s a lifetime before he says anything. “Itachi…”

Neither of them make a move to pull away. They do nothing to put distance between them, because, Itachi realises, neither of them want that. He allows longing to claim him, to mark him deeply, cutting into his very soul. He wants. He wants with such desperation he knows he can’t contain it. He needs Nagato, he needs to know he’s not alone, that they’re lost to this together.

There are fingers in his hair, pulling him back in, closing the distance neither of them want there, and then there are lips against his again, stealing his breath and restoring him to life. He shivers, moaning softly as he learns the weight of Nagato’s kiss, the curve of his lips and the intimate joy of sharing this touch with someone he cares for so deeply. He spills against Nagato, filling the cracks the other man exposes to him, and in return he allows Nagato in, letting the precious flicker of warmth and longing fill him with light. The world can remain in darkness, as far as he’s concerned, as long as he has this.

Neither of them let go, even long after dawn has broken and the storm has abated. Breathless, spent and whole, they lie together, limbs and hearts entangled as they feel the gentle shift that knowing freely given, selfless love can bring. With a kiss an unspoken promise is sealed, and Itachi gazes at the beautiful man by his side, knowing that this is forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out [Rcris123's](https://rcris123.deviantart.com) art on DA (or [tumblr](https://rcrisdraws.tumblr.com/) if you prefer). Her works are entirely responsible for my falling for this beautiful pairing, and I hope you love her stuff too.


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